Sympathy
by Formerly Known As
Summary: Someone trying to remember who they are. What happened to them. Why they can't remember. PG-13 to be on the safe side.
1. Waking Up

Sympathy  
By M. E. Gibbs  
  
There's light.   
Everywhere there's light.   
Burning light.   
  
Like liquid pain.   
  
Confusion.   
  
  
Pain.   
  
Too much pain.  
Can't think  
Can't breath.  
  
Only pain.   
Too much pain.  
  
I think I scream. But everything blurs together...  
  
Too much pain.  
Can't see  
Can't hear.  
Just pain.  
  
  
Then  
Impact.  
More pain.  
  
Then  
Darkness.  
  
***********  
Place  
Above me.  
Below me.  
  
Up.  
Down.  
Things in between.  
  
  
Me.  
  
I am here.  
In between.  
In between up and down.  
  
  
The middle?  
  
Where?  
  
Here.  
...  
Me.  
  
Me?  
  
Who?  
  
Me? Who?  
  
WHO  
AM  
I?  
  
.....  
  
I  
Don't  
Know.  
  
  
  
I don't know.  
  
It hurts.  
Everything hurts.  
  
I pull myself...up?  
Must be up.  
Pulled myself down...doesn't make any sense.  
  
So I pulled myself up.  
  
It's dark.  
Why is everything so dark?  
  
I can't see.  
I can't see!  
I CAN'T SEE A FU-  
  
  
Oh wait...my eyes are closed.  
  
That's why I can't see anything.  
  
...  
  
I open them.  
  
Light!Hurts!Pain!  
headache.  
  
.....I guess there's a reason why they were closed...  
  
Ouch.  
  
My vision clears.  
  
Everything around me  
Green.  
It's all green.  
So, I'm in a forest?  
No, not a forest. A jungle?  
Maybe, that seems about right.  
  
So I'm in a jungle.  
  
That answers where.  
What was the next question?  
Heh...I guess that was the next question...okay so now all I need is the answer.  
  
Why.  
That was the next question.  
Why?  
That doesn't help me...  
  
I guess the answer is...I don't know.  
The answer is I don't know.  
  
Moving on, then...next question.  
  
How.  
That's a good one.  
How come I just woke up in a jungle?  
How did I get here?  
How come I hurt so much?  
  
I wish I had some answers.  
  
Okay, next question.  
The one I've been dreading.  
Who.  
  
Who?  
  
Who  
Am   
I?  
  
Well!?  
  
Anyone know?!  
  
I sure don't.  
  
  
That's not a good thing.   
  
  
  
In fact that's a bad thing.  
  
I don't know who I am.  
  
  
Oh crap.  
  
....  
Well, since I don't know how I got here...I guess I might as well go somewhere   
else.  
I stagger to my feet and walk off through the forest.  
  
I think I've figured out one thing.  
  
I'm certainly not going to find my answers here.   
  
***********************  
Disclaimer...I don't own anybody...bla...bla...steal and be tormented by the demons of hell...bla..bla...or my lawyers...everybody happy now?  
  
Author's note: Why can I only write depressing Sonic the Hedgehog fan fic? Anybody got an answer? ANY ONE?! Okay guess not... I know this one didn't make any sense. The next chapter will. And such...and so on...okay, I'll go write the second chapter now. 


	2. Confusing Me

Sympathy  
By M. E. Gibbs  
  
Chapter 2  
Confusing Me  
  
I've made it out of the...jungle...thing...  
  
Yeah, the jungle.  
  
I've made it to...let's see.  
  
Big place.  
  
Lots of lights.  
  
Even more people.  
  
City.  
  
Yeah, I'm in a city.   
  
Good to know I can remember some things.   
  
....I guess...  
  
  
It's a little hard to think. I'm hungry. Definitely hungry.  
  
I'm thirsty. Very thirsty.  
  
And I'm tired. Extremely tired. My legs feel like...well, really heavy. They feel like...lead, yeah that was the word. My legs feel like lead. I'm tired. But I have no place to stop. No reason to stop either. If I sit still I'll never get anywhere. I think that's always been my philosophy. Even before I... forgot who I was. You never get anywhere if you sit still...  
  
Oh and I hurt.  
  
A lot.  
  
A whole lot.  
  
I'm sore.  
  
I've got bruises in places I didn't know you could bruise.   
  
And my skin feels all raw. No more fur on it. The wind hits my naked skin with the force of...oh about the force of sledge hammer.   
  
I can't say I'm having a good day.  
  
In fact I could probably say the exact opposite.  
  
But I'm alive.  
  
And that's got to count for something.  
  
At least I think I'm alive.  
  
Oh well.  
  
There's too many people here. I'm having trouble navigating through all of them. People keep brushing up against me as the elbow their way past. It hurts. Makes me feel all my burns and bruises even stronger than before. I've contemplated getting out of the city, but I'm not actively pursuing the goal. I figure the city can't go on forever, so if I keep walking I'll get out of it anyway.   
  
Some people seem to notice me. Some even notice how bruised and battered I'm sure I look. Most don't though. And the few that do notice just look away. Pretend I'm not really there. They vaguely wonder who I am, where I'm going, why I'm bruised before they wander on their way.   
  
Funny thing is, they aren't the only one who'd like the answer to those questions.   
  
I'd like to know where I'm going.  
  
I'd like to know why I'm bruised.   
  
But I'd really like to know who I am.  
  
Because I have this sneaky suspicion that if I had the answer to that question...a lot of other questions would either answer themselves...or at least seem less daunting.   
  
Or I could be wrong.  
  
....  
  
There are so many people. I don't recognize any of them.   
  
Faces.  
  
So many faces.  
  
It's like I'm drifting in a sea of them.  
  
Drowning in a sea of them.  
  
There's the face of a middle aged business man, forlorn and empty, wanting more but stuck with what he's got, too scared to try for more.  
  
There the face of a teenager, his hair up in spikes, nose pierced, trying to look rebellious, but just coming off pathetic.  
  
There the face of a housewife in her forties, overworked and under appreciated, fighting to keep her head up and give her kids a better life than the one she got.  
  
There the face of a hedgehog, bright pink, full of life and longing for more life and...  
  
And she seems to recognize me.  
  
She  
  
Recognizes  
  
Me.  
  
At least I think she does.  
  
Her mouth drops open, the bags she's carrying drop to her side. She stands and stares at me in shock.  
  
I stop and stare back. We stand like that for a while. I begin to get   
frustrated. I don't like just standing around. I'm about to start tapping my foot.  
  
Then she's moving. At me. Lunging. Should I move? Before I reach an answer she reaches me. And raps her arms around me in a constricting and rather painful way. I bite back a scream of pain and attempt to wince, though wincing doesn't work well with her wrapped around me.  
  
She seems to be crying. Or at least wailing. Loudly. In my ear. People are looking. Staring.   
  
I'd attack her or at least shake her off except, well...I don't think she MEANS to hurt or embarrass me. She just is. In fact I don't think she realizes that she is either embarrassing or hurting me.  
  
She's stopped wailing, though she hasn't yet released her death grip on me. She is talking though and I had better start listening.  
  
"-and you've been gone so long and we were all so worried and Knuckles thought you'd died or something but I wouldn't believe it and neither would Tails and we didn't know what to do and Eggman's been really annoying and-"  
  
That's basically what she said.   
  
And now it's been about five minutes. And she hasn't stopped talking. And she hasn't let me go either. Time to take action into my own hands, I guess.  
  
"Uh...do you mind...letting go?" I ask.  
  
Her endless torrent of words finally stops. She looks up at me, blushing. She let's go. I take a deep breath of air, rejoicing in the sudden increase of oxygen my lungs are getting.  
  
She takes a deep breath as well. She starts talking, slower this time. "Where have you been?"  
  
Well, I was in the jungle and currently I'm in the city, but I have a feeling that isn't what she meant. So I guess I'll go with the other answer. I shrug. "I don't know."  
  
A short silence. Then "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW?!"  
  
I shrug again, but she wasn't actually expecting an answer. "I can't believe you could be so irresponsible, so selfish. We've been worried sick and when you finally find the grace to show up again you won't even tell me where you've been!" She lunged for me suddenly. I take a hasty step back, but she isn't trying to get me in that choke hold of hers again. Instead she just sort of sprawls her self against me, leaning on me. I hold back a whimper. The first time she grabbed me I was too busy trying to keep breathing. This time I'm aware of the fact that she's pressed herself up against my bruised and wounded body. It doesn't feel too good.  
  
"Oh," she moans softly. "I've been so worried about you!" She looks up at me, her jade green eyes bright with hope and fear. "Please tell me you thought about what I said."  
  
There are again many options I could take at this point. I could lie. I could tell the truth. Of course it would help if I knew what was true. I might have been thinking about whatever it was she suggested. Or maybe I haven't. Obviously I haven't been thinking about her proposition lately or else I'd probably remember it. Might as well go for the blatant honest truth once again.  
  
"I don't remember," I tell her.  
  
She takes about three big steps away from me. Stares at me.   
  
"What.  
Do.  
You.   
Mean.  
You.  
Don't.  
Remember?"  
  
I shrug, feeling myself blushing. "What can I say? I can't remember."  
  
"What can't you remember?"  
  
Uh, everything? Instead of answering I just shrug and look away. She takes a step towards me. "Can...Can you remember...me?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the noises of the city.  
  
I look at her. I want to lie, but...I shake my head.   
  
She goes pale. "You don't remember me?"  
  
I shake my head again. Don't remember is don't remember.  
  
"It's me...It's me Amy. Amy Rose."  
  
Amy...Amy Rose...A-M-Y R-O-S-E. Amy Rose.   
  
Nope, not at all familiar.  
  
She watches me as I process her name seeing if it calls up any memories. She watches my expression change. "You don't remember me. You don't remember who I am or...or...or what I...was...to...you."  
  
It's now my turn to watch her expression change. I can't say I like the changes. Her expression goes from confused to heartbroken to thoughtful and then...to sly. There aren't any other words I can think of for the look on her face. As I said, it isn't making me feel any better.  
  
Her expression changes abruptly once more to an incredibly bright cheerfulness. It's a nice expression to see, comforting even as it is also sickeningly sweet. She dashes up to my side and links arms with me and begins to pull me down the street. I glance over my shoulder and notice she's left all her packages lying on the street behind us. I would have mentioned something except she had begun rapidly talking. "Don't worry, I'll get home and tend to your wounds and feed you and you'll see! Every thing will be just fine, Sonic."  
  
Sonic?  
  
Sonic? Is that my name? Could that be the answer to the great and unanswered question of who am I? Sonic? S-O-N-I-C. Sonic.  
  
Yeah sure. Sonic. We'll go with it.   
  
****************************  
Author's Note: Sorry Valentina, it isn't Shadow! Hee hee, I can be so evil sometimes...Yes, well, this little chapter was LOOOONG, in case you didn't notice. As in...very long. But yeah anyway! I got it done! Sorry about the lack of editing...I'm afraid my tenses on this one may...vary. Which isn't a good thing, but I'm lazy and I'll edit some other day. Most likely. Third chapter will show up...when it shows up. I'm rather unpredictable when it comes to writing on a specific piece so you'll see the next chapter when you see it! Tell then...Peace out, yo! 


	3. Haunting Me

Sympathy  
By M. E. Gibbs  
  
Chapter 3  
Haunting Me  
  
Ever feel like the words are there? In the back of your mind, on the tip of your tongue. Just beyond your reach. Beyond grasp. But so close you can feel them.  
  
You can feel them.  
  
You know they're there. You can feel them.   
  
Haunting you.  
  
Hunting you.  
  
Taunting you.  
  
Always just there.  
  
And always just out of reach.  
  
It's frustrating.  
  
Amy took me to her apartment.  
  
Fed me.  
  
Bandaged my wounds...sort of.  
  
Gave me a place to stay.  
  
Some place warm and dry.  
  
I've been here a week, going on two. Recuperating from...whatever it is that happened to me. Feeling better.  
  
Amy's okay, I guess.  
  
....  
  
She says she's my girlfriend.  
  
That I'm her boyfriend.  
  
That we've been in love for years.  
  
....  
  
I don't know, could be true. I mean after all, it's not like I remember anything. So yeah, we could have been boyfriend and girlfriend, before I forgot everything. We could have been in love.  
Maybe it's just me...but I don't see what it was I ever saw in her.  
  
It's not that she's an awful or horrible person. She's certainly annoying   
and too eager to please. But she's got a good heart. She's lively and loving. A good kid.  
  
But that's all I can think of her as.   
  
A kid.  
  
I'm not saying she means nothing to me. I'm grateful she took me in.  
  
I'm happy she's a friendly face...though sometimes she's a little too friendly a face.  
  
I'm even a little protective of her. I have no reason to, she seems like she's got some iron in her. But I still want to protect her. I don't like her being hurt. I want her to be happy.  
  
And I guess that's why I haven't left sooner. She seems so happy to have me around. And I'm glad she's happy.  
  
But I'm not learning anything, here, cooped up in her apartment. She hasn't really let me leave. Always comes up with some excuse to keep me in. I've been hurt too badly, it's raining outside. Lately they've been less valid and more nonsensical. I get the impression she's sheltering me.   
  
Or hiding something from me.  
  
Don't get me wrong, I don't think Amy means me any harm. Quite the contrary, I think. But at the same time I can't shake the feeling that she isn't telling me the whole truth. That there are facts she doesn't want me to know.   
  
This feeling could be a sign that my memories are returning.   
  
I'd like to think it's that.  
  
Most likely though, it's just simple observation. Amy isn't very good at lying.  
  
She's asleep on the sofa right now. She was nice enough to let me have the bed. Bed looks a lot more comfortable. Of course the sofa is also smack dab in front of the only exit.   
  
She's started locking me in when she leaves. Says it's for safety. I just think she doesn't want me to take off. I was okay here for a while. It was nice to sit around, let my wounds heal, watch TV, desperately hope I remember something. But I'm really sick of laying around. My philosophy, and I know now that's what it is, is to keep going. Keep moving. Not to sit around on my butt and get fat off of potato chips while an over anxious hedgehog girl dotes on me. I want to get moving. I want to see some more of the world. I'm not remembering anything here. I might remember something out there. And if not, at least I won't be fat and bored.  
  
So I'm leaving. Leaving this stupid apartment. Leaving Amy. Leaving my sanctuary. Going into the big bright world. Seeing what I find.  
  
I just realized. Amy didn't tell me shit about who I am. She told me about how madly in love we are. Or were. About how long we've known each other. How we met. Every single date we've ever had, or so it seems to me. Of course none of it helped me remember a thing. But listening to her talk...She didn't tell me anything about me. None of my hopes or dreams, goals or accomplishments. Not even my favorite color. It was about...us. An us, that if it ever existed, is dead now.   
  
I want Amy to be happy. I want to see that smile light up her eyes and hear her squeals of joy (so long as the aren't too close to my ears). But I really want to remember. I'm not remembering here. I know I'll break Amy's heart taking off the way I'm going to. But...I think she's use to it. Use to me heading off when I feel like it or need to. So maybe she'll be heart broken. She'll bounce back.   
  
Like I said, she's a good. She'll be fine. She's got her cute little apartment, her credit card, her daydreams. That girl will be fine. It's me I'm worried about. So off into the big scary world I go once again, looking for something that'll let me be fine. Maybe I'll find it. Maybe I won't.   
  
I sneak past the sofa carefully. The TV is still on and Amy has fallen asleep watching it. I reach the door safely and unlatch lock carefully. I glance at Amy. A sigh escapes my lips. I walk back to her, turn off the TV, and pull down a coat from the coat wrack by the door and drape it over her.  
  
"So long, Amy," I whisper. The door clicks shut behind me with barely any sound. I head out of the apartment complex. It's late and there's no one to see me leave. Not that it matters. I glance up the face of the apartment building as I step out into the night. There aren't any lights on. I idly wonder if it's an omen as I wander off into the darkened night.  
  
************  
  
Author's Note: Wow, does the ending of this chapter suck as much as I think it does? No, don't answer that. I'll edit it, I'm sure I really will. But...you know I'm lazy tonight. So, chill, I'll see you next chapter...whenever that is.....  
  
Peace out yo! 


	4. Rainy Days

Sympathy  
By M. E. Gibbs  
  
Chapter 4  
Rainy Days  
  
Ouch.  
  
Maybe I should have stayed with Amy a bit longer.  
  
I hurt.  
  
As in, a lot.  
  
Guess I'm not as well healed as I thought.  
  
That or I took more damage than I thought.  
  
The night started off well enough. Not a lot of people around. Nice clear night.  
  
Of course the clearer the night is the colder it is out generally. A little known fact, that one. But true none the less.  
  
So it was cold out when I began. No big deal. I'd borrowed one of Amy's old coats, one that amazingly enough didn't look too feminine. I could handle a little chill.  
  
But then it started to rain. And it kept raining. In fact, it is still raining. And that makes it rather cold, but in a different way. A wet, miserable way.  
  
It's actually pretty funny how easily we can stand cold. Cold is ignorable. It's something you can tune out. You can even have fun in the cold. Cold is pretty easy to take. It's like taking heat in the summer. It's part of a natural cycle.  
  
But being wet, now that's something entirely different. Wet and rain, it's an awful thing to endure. There's just something about water soaking in through dense layers of fabric, the way it sucks up heat and the way it sticks around. It dampens spirits the same way it dampens your coat and quills. It just can make a fellow feel completely miserable.   
  
Like they say, there's nothing worse than a rainy day.  
  
At least, some people say that.  
  
I think the sun rose already. At least everything's turned gray instead of black.  
  
Seems to be a good indication that it's day now. That and there are a lot more people wandering about.   
  
I'm once again stuck watching faces pass me by. Trying to see if there are any I recognize. Or if there are any that recognize me.  
  
You can never tell, it happened once already.  
  
I'm starting to get really hungry. As in very, very hungry. As in so hungry that Amy's cooking is starting to sound pretty good about now.   
  
I'm no connoisseur (at least I don't recall being one), but it doesn't take a genius to tell bad cooking when you taste it.  
  
It's sort of amazing when a person can't even make toast.  
  
I'm starting to think that maybe I didn't make the best choices in walking out on Amy like that. For example, I could have packed some food. Or snagged some money.  
  
I glance at the gray sky, feeling thick drops of rain pelt my face.   
  
Oh well, can't change it now.   
  
I've already made my decision and there just ain't no way I'm crawling back to Amy now.   
  
I may have no memory, but I've still got some pride.  
  
I don't have any food or money either, but that isn't the point.  
  
I've headed out of the semi-classy district Amy lives in. I'm in some sort of metropolitan area. The whole place is littered with shops and businesses. And a lot of coffee shops. The coffee doesn't smell all that appealing...but that baking bread sure smells good. Oh, sweet chaos, I think I've wandered across a bakery. I'm starting to drool.  
  
Life just isn't fair sometimes. Bakeries should not exist in places in places that starving, broke hedgehogs can wander past.  
  
Unfortunately, they do.  
  
It took every ounce of my pride to keep myself from diving through the door of the bakery. It took every iota of self control I have to keep myself walking past the bakery. But I just barely made it.  
  
Three feet later, I turned around and headed back into the bakery. If nothing else, at least I'd be out of the rain.  
************  
Author's Notes: Holy frickin'! I can not believe this! In one day I have updated three of my major stories, posted a new story, and done all of this WITH A GLITCHY INTERNET CONNECTION!  
  
Sweet Chaos, it's incredible.... 


	5. Transactions

Sympathy  
By Formerly Known As  
  
Author's Note:  
Been a while, hasn't it?  
  
Chapter 5  
Transactions  
  
"Can I have a donut?"  
  
"I'm sorry sir, you need money to buy something from this store."  
  
"Can I have some money then?"  
  
"Uh...No, sir."  
  
"Can I have a job?"  
  
"Um...I'm sorry sir, we're not hiring any one at this time."  
  
The girl behind the counter smiles as politely as she can. It might be kind of sadistic of me, but I'm really enjoying this. Guess it's not every day a blue hedgehog comes into the bakery with no money and begs her for a job.   
  
"Are you sure you don't want to give me job?"  
  
"If you don't leave soon sir, I'm going to call the manager."  
  
Okay, now we're getting somewhere! Turn on the warning lights, we've moved to Stage 2. We are out of the polite stage and into the warning stage. Be on guard, things are going to get a lot more interesting from here!  
  
Damn, I'm twisted.  
  
"Would he give me a job?" I ask.  
  
The girl behind the counter doesn't seem to know what to say. This is really fun. I didn't know confusing people could be so entertaining.  
  
Of course, it would be a lot more fun if I wasn't so hungry.  
  
"Please, sir, leave or I will call the manager."  
  
Before I can think of something else to say, there's a happy little bell jingling stupidly behind me. Someone else has entered the shop.  
  
"Sonic?"  
  
Well, would you listen to that? It sounds like I've just found someone else who knows me. Or at least someone else has found me. Wonder who it is this time. I turn around and...  
  
Hello! Now there's a looker. Standing in the door to the bakery is a white bat. And, boy, does she look good! Big aqua eyes, soft white fur, and a body to die for. She's wearing a black tank top over which is thrown a light leather jacket. She has on a pair of tight fitting black jeans and large boots with...hearts on them. Okay, compared to the rest of the outfit, those don't quite fit. Guess they were the only boots she had or something. Or she really likes them. In one hand she's holding a purse and the other a pair of sunglasses she just removed from their perch on the top of her head.   
  
Wait a minute, why the hell is she wearing sunglasses on a rainy day?  
  
"Sonic?" she repeats. "Is that you?"  
  
I step away from the counter, much to the girl behind the counter's delight. I look the bat over from head to foot. And not in a sick way! I'm looking her over to get a feel for how strong she is and just what it is she wants from me. Is she enemy or friend? Though, actually, that body does look really good.   
  
Looking back up at her face, I see she's doing the same thing, checking me out from head to foot. Finally, she meets my eyes.  
  
"Sonic." She says nothing else.  
  
I give her a quick nod. A soft smile lights up her face. I like the look of that smile. It's not a flirtatious look. It's not coy. It's not a dangerous 'I can eat you now' look. It's not suspicious. It's not sly.  
  
It's an honest, 'I'm glad to see you're alive' look.  
  
I think those are some of the best looks a guy can get.  
  
She walks over to me, those luscious hips of hers swaying slightly. "Sonic," she repeats, warmly. "It's really you."   
  
She steps up close to me and takes my arm. "I'm glad."  
  
At this rate, so am I.  
  
I look her in the eyes. From the look in them, I can tell she really is glad to see me. That or a damn good actress.  
  
Her smile flashes suddenly coy. "Aren't you glad to see me, Sonic?" She wraps her arms around my shoulders. "Because you know I'm glad to see you." She leans in close, her lips barely brushing my ear. "I've missed you sooo much."  
  
She swings back around till she facing me, her hands still holding my arms. "So tell me, are you glad to see me, Sonic?"  
  
I meet her big aqua eyes. "Depends," I reply. "Who are you?" 


	6. Chit Chat, Redundantly

Sympathy  
By Formerly Known As

Author's Note: A new chapter. Shocking, isn't it?

Chapter 6  
Chit Chat, Redundantly

The white bat laughs as she wraps her arms around my waist. "Funny, Sonic. Real funny. But you know who I am!" she says.

"Uh, no," I reply. "I don't."

She flashes me a playful look and slaps my chest. "Don't tell me you forgot who I was!"

"Okay," I reply.

A slight silence descends on the bakery as the clerk pretends she isn't there. The white bat takes two steps back and stares me down. I do my best to meet her gaze. I watch as uncertainty flickers to life in her eyes. She's still holding my hands. 

Finally, she steps in closer to me and taps my nose with one daintily nailed finger. "Don't kid with ME, blue boy," she says, still tapping my nose. "You know who I am."

I shake my head. "No. I don't."

She releases my hands and backs off again. She gives me a speculative look, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You…Really don't remember me, do you?" she says finally.

I sigh. "Didn't I just say that?"

"But…" Now she looks confused. "But how can you not--?"

I shrug. "There's a question I'd like an answer to as well."

She blinks her big aqua eyes in bafflement. Then, slowly, a sort of understanding sinks in. As if she put together a few things in her head. "So you don't remember me at all?"

This is getting ridiculously redundant. I sigh again, fold my arms and tap my foot. "I believe that's what I said, _multiple times_."

"Well it's definitely you, at any rate," she mutters, that speculative look back on her face as she watches my foot tapping impatiently.

What, did she think I was a robot or something?

She sighs then, unfolding her arms. "I'm sorry if I'm being so repetitious. It's just that this is a little hard for me to swallow."

And it's a picnic for me?

"I'm Rouge, by the way. Rouge the Bat."

Yay, a name. I'm so thrilled.

Actually, scratch the sarcastic comment, I AM thrilled. Names are good things. I would know.

My stomach takes that moment to make its empty presence known to the world with a very loud growl. I feel a faint blush crawling up my cheeks as Rouge smirks a little. She glances at the counter where the clerk is still practicing her skills of invisibility. "You want some breakfast?" asks Rouge.

I flash her a quick grin. "I'd love some."

***********

"So tell me what you do remember."

I glance up at Rouge sitting across from me at a small table in the little bakery. "Not much really. Actually, basically nothing I'd say."

"But you remember your name. Otherwise you wouldn't have answered me when I called you."

"Only because someone else called me that already."

"Someone else?"

I shrug and grab what is probably my fifth pastry. Rouge watches me in amusement. I hesitate. "You want one?" I ask lamely.

Rouge smiles and shakes her head. "I don't eat much in the morning. I just come to this bakery because the coffee is to die for," she says, tipping her cup towards me a bit.

I grimace. 

Rouge looks at me questioningly, then grins. "That's right! You don't like coffee, do you? Shadow told me that."

I frown. "Shadow…" I mutter, before taking a big bite of my pastry.

Rouge leans forward eagerly. "Do you remember him?" 

I shake my head.

Rouge looks a little disappointed. "Well, does the name ring any bells or anything?"

I shake my head again. After swallowing my bite of pastry I reply, "Doesn't sound familiar at all. It's just not something I think would be a very common name."

Rouge smirks a bit. "Shadow isn't a very common person."

I snort. "Yeah, well, anyway…"

Rouge nods, back to business. "So what's the first thing you remember."

I hesitate. For some reason, I'm not sure I want to tell her anything. It's not that I don't trust her…it's just that I really don't trust her. 

"Waking up," I state finally.

"Waking up?"

"Yes. Waking up."

"Where at?"

I hesitate again, looking for the right words. "A…a jungle, I think."

"A jungle?"

"Yeah, well, it was green and lush and that was the word I came up with for it."

"So then what?"

Another hesitation. My memory, though in existence at that point in the game, wasn't really up to par.

"Then I came here."

"You came here?" 

"Do you have to repeat EVERYTHING I say?" I snap. If things weren't redundant before…

"Sorry," she says, no hint of sincerity in her voice. "I just want to make sure I'm getting all this right."

I snort. She continues talking. "So…You woke up in a jungle…and then came here…How did you come here, Sonic? I mean, did you walk, did you hop a train, did you…" Hesitation. "Did you find a different mode of transportation?"

Not what she was originally planning to say. I shrug. "I walked."

Rouge blinked. "It's an awfully long walk here, Sonic, even from the nearest jungles."

"And I was going to do what else with my time? I didn't remember anything. I was just walking randomly."

Her eyes narrow, as if she didn't quite believe me. Fine, I don't care. It's the truth. I think.

"Okay. So you walked here. Then what hap—" She was cut off as she suddenly began to beep. I felt a surge of confusion, then realized, as she pulled back the sleeve of her jacket, that it was her watch that was beeping persistently at her.

She looked at it for a while as though reading it, then cursed. She looked up at me, sincere apology in her eyes this time. "I'm really sorry, Sonic, but I have to get going." A mournful sigh. "I've just got no choice in this."

Rouge gets up to go and I remain where I am, since all the pastries have yet to be properly devoured. She heads for the door but turns before she goes.

After a moment of hesitation, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a little white rectangle of paper. She holds it out to me.

"It's my business card, actually." She tells me as I hesitate to take it. "But it's got my address and my cell phone number on it, so if you need to contact me…"

I hesitate again, then take it. I look it over quickly, before stashing it in a pocket of the coat. I look back up at her when I realize she hasn't left yet.

Rouge is staring down at me, her big aqua eyes full of worry and something I can't quite place. "If you need me for anything, Sonic, a place to stay, some money, anything…just contact me. I'll…I'll be around."

Another flicker of hesitation in her eyes, then she bends down quickly and plants a soft kiss on my right ear. She turns and hurries off immediately, a slight blush just visible under her white fur.

I watch her go, then turn to back to the table. I've still got a lot of pastries to go through.  
************ 

Author's Note: Yes, Shadow. Because I said so.


	7. Reflections in the Glass

Sympathy  
By Formerly Known As

Author's Note: Sorry about last chapter's note….I was feeling contrary and was slightly worried people would question Shadow's aliveness. Except, these days more or less everyone's accepted that Shadow's alive and running around. So maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.

Disclaimer: Sonic and company belong to Sega. Story belongs to Formerly Known As. Is any one else bored out of their minds of these stupid disclaimers?

Chapter 7  
Reflections in the Glass

Life always looks better on a full stomach. Trust me on this one.

Particularly when its full off of a free breakfast.

Got to give that to Rouge, she did pick up the bill.

Just as well since I don't have any cash on me.

Pastries, all properly devoured and given a good home. At least in my opinion it's a good home. The best, in my opinion.

It's still early in the morning, so not many people are out and about. But that'll change soon. If the coffee is as good as Rouge says it is, this little bakery will fill up real fast. 

So I'd best be on my way.

Where to, I don't know, but that isn't really the point.

But I'd better go before a lot of people come. I'm not really in the mood for people right now.

I'm getting up from the table and dusting various crumbs and flakes off myself from all the pastries and I notice, sitting forlornly across the table from me, next to a cup half full of cold coffee…are Rouge's sun glasses. The ones that she had with her even though it was absolutely gray and dismal outside.

Maybe she just had them for fashion's sake. She certainly is a stylish dresser. 

But how can anyone wearing boots with hearts on them with that outfit care all that much about fashion to wear sunglasses on a gloomy day like this?

Maybe I'm reading more into this than is actually there.

Maybe.

But I'll tell you one thing. I don't trust Rouge. Period.

It isn't that she doesn't want to help me. I can tell that she does.

But I think she, like Amy knows more than she's letting on.

And, unlike Amy, I think Rouge actually has some clue what's going on.

Thinking back on our little conversation, Rouge told me NOTHING I didn't already know. She just asked questions. 

And if you ask me, I'm the one who's suppose to be asking the questions around here. After all, I'm the one completely clueless as to what's going on. Rouge and Amy at least know about who I was. And I think Rouge actually knew some of what happened to me. Why I can't remember. Maybe not the whole story but…something.

At least Rouge didn't lie to me like Amy. At least not any lies I could catch.

Then again that bat strikes me as one hell of a good liar.

I sigh and shove my chair under the table violently. All this thinking is just tangling me up in knots. Over all I can't say I'm particularly liking this thinking thing.

So I'll go. I'll go…somewhere else. And I'll figure out where that somewhere else is when I get there.

But just because, I grab the glasses off the table. Rouge might want them back if I see her again.

Besides, they're pretty cool sunglasses. Like Amy's coat, not too feminine. I should be able to wear them just fine.

And if not, it's not like I give a damn anyway.

So I head for the exit the shop, folding up and storing the glasses in one of the coats many (and shockingly empty) pockets. I sort of get the impression that Amy never wore this coat much. Guess it wasn't girly enough for her. Amy really seems to like things on the girly side. Probably means she won't miss the coat all that much. Good.

As I leave threw the door, the bell above it tinkling with insane happiness, I give the girl behind the counter a cheeky grin and bright wave. She looks so relieved I'm leaving almost decide to stick around. But as I'm exiting, a sharply dressed businessman is entering, giving me a dark look. Probably for the best I'm taking my leave.

But when I get outside, I suddenly realize that there isn't anyway I really want to go. Certainly I could go up the street or down the street. But what would it matter anyway? Either way I'm wandering randomly, no place to go. I could use Rouge's business card and go to her place, but of course she wouldn't be there. So what's the point? I could go back to Amy's place but that's the same as saying I could shoot myself in the foot. Certainly I COULD but I do I want to? Hell no.

I stop and stand in the middle of the sidewalk, having nothing better to do. I think about where I am and where I could go.

Can't go to Rouge's. Won't go to Amy's. So that leaves me with…an entire city to wander. And beyond that, an entire world. Of which I remember nothing about…

Okay, so that's not entirely true. I remember not to play in traffic, I remember not to jump off tall buildings, I remember not to eat broken glass. I remember lots of things, general things. I remember what a building is and what a businessman looks like. Sadly, though most of what I do remember about this city is mostly due to sitting around watching Amy's TV for a week. Yes I can remember things. But only after seeing them. Until I see something or interact with something, I don't remember anything about it. 

I remember when I first came to the city. I couldn't remember jack squat. I only barely recalled it was a city. I only barely remembered to stay on the sidewalks after nearly getting hit by a truck. Everything had a strangely blurry cast to it, like I was seeing it for the first time, except I know I wasn't because as I saw things, I remembered them. They…came in focus then.

Amy really did help me out in more ways than one. She let me have a chance to heal up a bit (because one thing I didn't need to remember that was the pain that was there right from the beginning) and while I'm not completely healed, I certainly feel better now. Whatever I did, it certainly wasted my body. A week of healing and I'm still not good to go…

She gave me food and a soft place to sleep, just the thing for recharging lost energy. Because for that first week, I felt really drained. I've got a lot more energy now. A lot. Which is why I left the apartment. Too much energy to keep me cooped up quite honestly.

But more importantly, Amy gave me a place and time to sort my mind out a bit. After that week of resting and watching TV I remember a LOT more than I did. Which isn't saying much considering I didn't remember anything to begin with. But my head's on straight now or at least straighter than it was. Things are clearer. When I look at something, I remember what it is, almost instantly. And if not instantly, eventually, if I mull it over in my mind.

Someone brushes past me, muttering angry things, almost jolting me from my reverie. I blush a little, embarrassed at my zoning and move out of the center of the sidewalk and next to the bakery window.

A flash of blue in the glass catches my eye and turn to face my reflection, staring back at me forlornly in the glass. Green eyes, blank and confused. Lost really. Spines an absolute raggedy wreck behind me. No amount of brushing seems to get them to behave anymore. Amy offered me mousse but I'm not sinking that low. They can just stay a wreck. I may not like it, but I don't like the concept of mousse either. 

Blue fur not quite present in full force. What was it Amy said I had when she first bandaged me? Burns? That's right, I'd been burned. Badly. Can't remember how. Tried. But can't. The burns are healing, though the ones down my legs and chest and hands still hurt like you wouldn't believe, but I'm healing. My fur is thinking about regrowing. Thinking about it enough so that soft blue stubble has begun sprouting up in a patch work network across my body. Amy was shocked to see that. She said I shouldn't be healing as fast I was. That it wasn't natural. I told her I was damn happy I was getting better and fast, natural or not be damned!

She gave me a really strange look and I felt as though what I said had scared her. As though what I said hadn't been…in character?

In character or not, I really didn't (and still don't) give a damn. Must I repeat how much burns hurt?

I look bedraggled and awful, pathetic and pitiful in the glass. I'd say it was just a shitty reflection in a shitty piece of glass…except I've seen the exact same thing in Amy's mirrors. Often. Sometimes, when I grew fed up with rotting my mind in front of the TV, I went into the bathroom and just stared at my refection. Stared into the green eyes, the tattery quills, the burnt fur slowly coming back. 

And the glass is lying no more than the mirror ever did.

But it isn't the pathetic way that I look that bothers me. What bothers me is that I've stared into the glass and the mirror and occasionally spoons…and it doesn't matter how much I stare, how much I mull it over in my mind….Nothing's coming back. I look at the ratty hedgehog in the window and for all I know, it could be someone completely different. It could be just another stranger in the street. No one I've ever seen before, no one I've ever talked to. No one I remember. No one I know.

Because that's what bothers me. I can remember what a car is and what a building is. I can remember something or someone once shown. I remember to eat and crap and grab a coat when wandering through a city at night. And yet I remember NOTHING about myself. Not my friends, not my family. Not who I was or what I did. Not what I like or what I hated. I look at myself in the glass and see someone who, as far as my memory can tell, simply doesn't exist.

Except, I'm not willing to let myself simply not exist. Okay, sure. So I don't remember who I was. And that's a real bitch. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up on tomorrow. Yesterday is dead anyway, so why not focus on tomorrow? I don't know who I was. But I can always make myself into something now. I don't have to be nothing. And I don't plan on staying nothing.

But there's still one more little hitch. I don't remember who I was. But there are people out there who do. Amy remembers me. Rouge remembers me. Both of them mentioned other people, friends of mine. People who knew me. People who will recognize me. People who can actually tell me what I was before I forgot. Okay, forget the slight factor that none of them seem to be telling me jack shit about it.

I've noticed one thing about myself. I'm curious. Very, very curious. They say curiosity killed the cat, but that was after it was done slaughtering, devouring, and throwing up the hedgehog. And I really want to know who I was. I don't desperately need to know, I just really want to.

Ah, what the hell am I saying? I desperately, pathetically, urgently need to know. It's driving me up the wall not knowing!

So that leaves me here, stuck. Nowhere to go, no destination even possible without remembering where I could go. Wanting to move on with my life, but trapped by the memories other people have of me. Really, really wanting to remember myself, but finding nothing in the glass except for a battered reflection. 

I lift up one hand, placing it against its mirror in the glass. I stare into my own eyes and yet see nothing familiar.

Life sucks. We'll leave it there.

I stare deep into the glass window, seeking for something I know.

The raggedy hedgehog in the glass stares back at me with tired emerald eyes.

Damn, I actually have kinda nice eyes, really.

All things considered, I'm pretty good looking. I look horrible, for me, but still, that's actually not half bad. I mean, the color combo is nice. The blue and tan and the green eyes and the red streaks…

Wait a minute! I don't have red streaks!

I whip around towards my right, where I'd seen someone else's reflection in the glass. Someone else, who had been watching me.

Someone else, who looked almost familiar.

I just barely managed to see someone dashing away, moving quickly down the alley next to the bakery. 

"Hey get back here!" I yell, trying to run after the quickly departing figure. I hadn't gotten a real good look at who ever it was. And the very fact that they had been watching me, then ran away when I spotted them, really wasn't very reassuring. That and whoever it was…looked so familiar. Almost like someone I…remembered?

But as I tried to turn down the alley in pursuit, my ankle shifted in a way I know it's not suppose to go and gave out beneath me. I gritted my teeth and just barely kept back a shriek of pain as agony shot up my leg. I grabbed my burning ankle, trying to move it into a less agonizing position, panting softly as tears pricked the edges of my eyes.

Fucker ain't suppose to go that way! So why the hell is the damn ankle TRYING to go in the opposite direction of the bone? I repeat, NOT suppose to GO that way!

Hell if I know, but it HURTS like nothing else.

A small whimper escapes me and I'm helpless to keep it back. I try massaging the aching limb but it seems to want to do nothing but scream with horrible, agonizing pain.

I begin to curse loudly and creatively, if only to keep myself from whimpering again.

I repeat, life sucks.

No, life really sucks.

And we'll leave it there.


End file.
